16 October 2014

sometimes I can't believe we're here. in atlanta, georgia and not in portland, oregon. sometimes it doesn't feel real. sometimes it feels like we just sort of slipped into this different life without skipping even one beat. we were there and now we're here. of course, that's not what happened. getting here was hard, leaving was hard. and when I say hard, I mean haaaard. like, anxiety attack-inducing, multiple salty sweaty tear-shedding, are-we-going-to-make-it-OMG-WE'RE-NOT-GOING-TO- MAKE-IT hard. I've never had a real panic attack but I think I had one on the last day we loaded up the moving truck. yeah, I'm pretty sure I had one.

what kept me going, though, through all of it, besides the idea of family waiting for us on the other side, was the planning and dreaming of the big cross country road trip home. portland, oregon to atlanta, georgia, by way of the 101 south down through california then across arizona, new mexico, texas, oklahoma via old route 66. at the end of my longest, most emotionally brutal days, this is the thing I curled up with. two weeks on the road, with nothing to do but stare out the window as the landscapes gradually, magically change. the actual planning began the minute we knew atlanta was a real live happening thing. can I tell you? nothing makes me happier than planning road trips. if I could do this for a living, in a second, a nanosecond. I love to coax out the plans, hash out the possibilities, to research, calculate mileage, determine budgets. I am that girl that falls down internet rabbit holes and does not resurface without gems of information. I leave room for spontaneity but admittedly, am hardcore with the planning. I have orchestrated many a road trip in my time but this one. this one is my magnus opus. steeped in greatness from beginning to end, save for the occasional hiccup (i.e., fairly tame backseat arguments, soggy breakfasts eaten from coolers most mornings and the time we learned spicy cheetos and windy roads do not mix). I don't even know where to start. so much road magic, it doesn't feel real. did it really happen? did we actually do it? yes, we did. we did. and already, I want to do it all over again.

so, if you don't mind, I'm going to share the ever-loving heck out of it here. I'll take my time with it, as I am wont to do, but it might get old. there's a lot, folks. a lot. there are pictures. there are so. many. pictures. and words, good lord, there are words. and now finally, there's time.

10 October 2014

to the folks who showed up to roam the streets of providence, rhode island with me to do my absolute favorite thing in the world (wander and shoot, shoot and wander), thank you. to the downpour of rain that magically held off and the golden honey light that finally showed up, thank you. to the dean hotel and the wonderful staff and all the lovely/quirky/thoughtful details, the tiny lift with the chandelier, the hotel bed that gave me my first real amazing night of sleep in months, thank you. to the fascinating people we met as we wandered the streets, the man with cotton white hair feeding the swans, the 95 year-old portuguese grocer still doing his thing, the prize fighter who turned his life around, thank you. for talking with us, for letting us photograph you, thank you. to the streets of providence, for your hundred year-old buildings, impossibly narrow alleyways and gorgeous old fire escapes, your bright-colored doorways and complicated wrought iron fences, your bicycles at every single turn, thank you. to xanthe and amy for a rooftop/wasteland golden hour shoot like no other, thank you. to all the lovely folks who showed up to squam in the city completely open to new things (and new people), who showed up to stretch and learn a little, thank you. and to elizabeth, maker of squam magic extraordinaire, thank you. until next time, friends.

03 October 2014

1. salted pistachio nuts
2. ezra's tiny folded paper stars
3. everything in glass jars, everything
4. the magic of memory foam
5. the light in the living room around one o'clock
6. leah's unforgettable grocery list
7. dera's things for remembering
8. portland listening, atlanta listening
9. new york and san francisco too
10. big fat bags of leftover color powder
11. big fat stacks of old forty-fives
12. blackcattipsout in the burbs
13. imaginary shopping sprees involving clogs of the maguba variety
14. the sorting through of the road trip polaroids
15. the reading (devouring) of the book the gold finch
16. dorothea lange and her hunk of lightning
17. combinations and across the floor with twenty young terrific movers
18. unexpected packages of instant film from lovely friends
19. the obsessing over a gallery wall
20. the beginning of life as a coffee drinker
21. the teeniest, tiniest crockpot
22. vivid dreams where I am grocery shopping with my mom
23. mexican blankets for days and days
24. sonic cherry limeades forever